


Four Times FOB Quoted Wednesday Addams (And One Time They Might Not Have?)

by Hum My Name (My_Kind_of_Crazy)



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Addams Family, Fluff, Gen, Not much more to really add to this, fobcc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 21:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12566216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Kind_of_Crazy/pseuds/Hum%20My%20Name
Summary: The title says it all. For October's FOBCC!





	Four Times FOB Quoted Wednesday Addams (And One Time They Might Not Have?)

**Author's Note:**

> Look. This totally stems from my confusion over whether or not that line from Expensive Mistakes comes from Wednesday Addams. Half the people I've spoken to say no; the rest say yes. So we'll just leave it open-ended.
> 
> This is another work that's far from my forte so hopefully, you all enjoy it :)

**1\. It’s Called “Is There A God”**

_ Drip _

_ Drip _

_ Drip _

Joe looks cautiously outside the cheap motel window, the icicles melting from the roof distracting him from how he’s supposed to help the guys pack up. The biting winter wind rushes inside when Patrick shoves the door open, lugging a bag stinking of dirty laundry outside with him. Joe wrinkles his nose and grabs his own bag— smaller but reeking just as much— to follow him out.

It isn’t that Joe’s wary of the cold or the snow piled up around their van, though both are worthy of his attention. He’d expected as much when they’d pulled into the parking lot late last night, still riding the high from their gig as the first few snowflakes began to fall. He’d expected the storm to come.

He hadn’t expected the ice.

The frozen water coats the streets with a glittering sheen, mocking and taunting as Andy calls out that it’s Joe’s turn to drive. Pete, he knows, sees the same thing Joe does, though he treats it with much less caution.

“Oh, shit!” He laughs, unlocking the van and tossing bags in. “Have fun with the roads, Joe.”

_ Drip _

_ Drip _

_ Drip _

Joe glares at Pete, fumbling to catch the keys when they’re tossed his way. If it were any other situation, he wouldn’t mind the teasing so much. The thoughts of slick roads and heavy vans, however, has him biting back any light-hearted response. Patrick pats Joe on the shoulder as he passes in a way the guitarist's sure is meant to be sympathetic, the singer too exhausted to do much else as he climbs into the backseat of the car. Andy gets on the passenger side and Joe’s thankful that, at least, he won’t have to deal with Pete.

The  _ dripping _ of the icicles follows him as he gets in the driver’s seat. They don’t have to go too far, just another town over for a small college show. He should be able to make it, right? The keys rattle together in his shaking hands— either cold or nerves, he’s not sure— but eventually he’s able to start the car.

Okay. Should be fine. The ice always looks worse than it is, right?

Wrong.

The van slides out of the parking spot with too much speed, the back wheels gaining a mind of their own and quite literally shaking Patrick awake.

“What the fuck, Joe?” He says, rubbing his head from where he’d hit it against the window. “Slow down.”

“The roads are covered in ice, asshole,” Joe snaps, hands tightening around the wheel as he glances over his shoulder. “I’d like to see you drive in this.”

Patrick mutters a handful of curses to himself, crossing his arms over his chest. Joe considers it a victory, foot heavy on the brake as he slowly pulls them away from the motel. He makes it to the exit just fine, breathing a sigh of relief as the sun starts to peek out from some clouds. 

Of course, Pete decides then would be the perfect time to continue his teasing.

Joe sees Pete in the mirror as he slowly inches forward, a sly grin on his lips and a handful of snow in his hands. 

This time, Joe uses the ice to his advantage.

His foot switches quickly from the brake and to the gas, giving just enough for the ice to take control of the wheels and send Pete sprawling back against the seat from the force of the sudden speed. The shouting from Andy and Patrick is worth the shocked expression on Pete's face.

“Fuck!” Pete shouts, landing on his ass with snow all over his lap. Joe huffs a breath out from his nose but struggles to get the van back under his control. Goddamnit, if he crashes all because Pete tried to play a joke… Joe’s heart eases back into a steadier rhythm once the van slows down in time for a stop sign. Pete, however, still sounds full of nervous energy as he shouts from the back. “What the fuck kind of game are you playing, Trohman?”

Joe eyes him from the mirror, exasperation in his every breath as Pete glares right back.

“It’s a new one. I just made it up,” he says. 

“Yeah?” Pete asks, raising an eyebrow. “And what game would that be?”

“Take a look at the ice and snow on the roads, Wentz,” Joe snaps. “It’s called  _ is there a God _ ? _ ” _

The laughter that fills the van is more nervous than anything, the other three finally seeing what Joe’s been so afraid of. 

“Okay, sure, Wednesday,” Pete says, grinning even as his eyes flash fearfully at each car that rushes past them. “Let’s not find out today. We have a show.”

Joe glances back, the van swerving a bit as his distraction lets the ice gain some advantage. After a moment, he looks back, resigned to Pete’s persistence in teasing him relentlessly. 

“Yep,” he says. “God help us.”

 

**2\. You Sent Us To Camp. They Made Us Sing.**

In the time it takes for him and Joe to find a cab back to the hotel, Patrick's already planned out exactly how to murder Pete. He has everything from the murder weapon to his alibi figured out; he’s pretty confident he won’t get caught.

“Hey!” Pete exclaims, opening up the door to the hotel room once Joe and Patrick arrive. “The kids are ba—!”

“You motherfucking asshole!” Patrick shouts, hands wrapping around Pete’s throat as rushes into the room. He can't afford to waste any time, after all. “You absolute son of a bitch!”

Pete’s smiling, the motherfucker, even as Patrick tightens his grip on his neck. He’s already calculating how long it will take for him to pass out so Patrick can finish the deed.

Of course, he hadn’t planned on how to get rid of the witnesses and, sure enough, Andy’s pulling him away with laughter of his own. Even  _ Joe’s  _ reminding him how much they need a bassist, the traitor. 

Pete gags and coughs for a bit, leaning against the cheap hotel walls and smiling in a way that has Patrick lunging towards him again, Andy’s arms tightening around his arms.

“So, I’m guessing you guys got a little lost?” Pete asks once he’s able to speak. Patrick sees red.

_ “Lost!?”  _ He shouts, fighting against Andy’s hold. He’s going to kill Pete, he swears. “You sent us to camp! They made us sing!”

Pete absolutely loses it, leaning over and laughing so hard Patrick sees tears starting to stream from his eyes. It’s  _ not  _ funny in the slightest.

“Oh my god, I didn’t think you guys would actually go!” He says. “Like, how long did it take you to notice that we gave you the wrong address?”

Patrick’s quiet, breathing heavy and unwilling to answer the question. A moment passes before Joe betrays him again.

“About a half hour,” he says quietly. Patrick turns his glare on him. He’s killing Joe next. 

“You told us we were going to a gig,” Patrick spits out, looking back at Pete. “I brought my guitar to a camp for elementary school kids. Do you know how many of those fucking brats tried to touch it?”

“Did they like the music?” Pete asks, smiling. Patrick’s eyes narrow.

“We sang  _ camp _ songs, you motherfucker. Kum-by-yah and shit like that.” Patrick knows he’s giving Pete more reasons to tease them in the future but, seriously, he has to get some of this off his chest. “One of the counselors suggested  _ Princess Pat _ as a song.”

He expects the laughter the second the words leave his lips. It doesn’t make him any less angry. Still, Andy’s hands loosen in the process and Patrick finally pulls away. He moves to attack Pete once more but stops himself, sighing and running his hands over his face as the events of the day catch up with him. He’d been out with Joe on a rare day off from the tour when they’d gotten a text from Pete saying that a show had just come up. Supposedly, the label wanted them to play an acoustic set for some radio station. It wouldn’t be the first time something had come up so suddenly so he and Joe had rushed to the hotel to grab their things and hurried to the address Pete had sent.

The address, however, ended up being a children’s day camp— a camp filled with overeager children and overenthusiastic counselors more than willing to pressure the two musicians into staying for their music session. Why he and Joe hadn’t left when they’d seen the camp sign, Patrick will never know.

“I’m going to take a shower and then I’m going to bed,” Patrick says, turning away from the others. “And then, in a few hours, I’m going to kill Pete in his sleep.”

Everyone, Joe excluded, laughs. Patrick ignores them, more than willing to let them believe he’s just joking.

**3\. Are They Made From Real Girl Scouts?**

The interviewer had come across as a pompous snob from the very beginning, forgetting the name of the single they came to talk about and even calling Andy “Adam”. In retrospect, Andy might have been mumbling when she had asked his name but, come on, shouldn’t the interviewer have done some background research on their names before they got here? 

Andy leans back in his seat, playing with the cord on his microphone and lets Pete ramble about the meaning behind the song’s lyrics. It seems safe to assume that the rest of the questions can be fielded by Pete, as well. It’s not that the interviewer will  _ try  _ to ignore Andy. Rather, she’ll forget he’s there entirely as a result of his unwillingness to indulge her over-exaggerated smile and the questions they’d been asked a thousand times already. She'd started the interview by asking why the band just now got back together after a few years of being broken up.  _ Really? Who hasn’t asked that question yet?  _ He listens to Pete’s answers, recognizing them from a few other interviews and smiling to himself when he realizes it must mean she asked another redundant question.

“So, Andy,” the interviewer states, gaining his attention. She emphasizes his name, probably trying to hide the fact that she just realized her mistake from earlier. “I’ve heard that you’re vegan and I have to say that it sounds so cool. You know, I tried going vegan before but I couldn’t stay away from the meat. How do you do it?”

Andy furrows his eyebrows together and leans towards the microphone with a shrug. “Uh, I’ve been vegan for a long time now so it’s pretty much normal to me. There are a lot of options and substitutions that I’ve found so it’s not much of an issue.”

The interviewer nods, though it seems she doesn’t quite understand. “But don’t you miss some of the non-vegan food?”

“Um, not really. It gets easy to move past when you focus on the lifestyle,” Andy admits. The interviewer waits for an elaboration but Andy doesn’t give any. He doesn’t need to, does he? He’s pretty sure he suitably answered the question.

“When I tried being vegan for, like a week in high school, I gave up so fast,” the interviewer says. A week in high school? Andy tries-- and fails-- to hide his disappointed wince. “The girl scout cookies broke me.”

Silence. And then: “They have vegan girl scout cookies.”

“What?” The interviewer gapes, an overacted shock on her expression even though they’re only recording the audio for a podcast on her site. “Are you sure? Like, are you just guessing or messing with me?”

“No, they have some vegan options,” he says, looking to Pete for help. Of course, Pete just watches him with as much interest as the interviewer does. “Like, the peanut butter patties are vegan now.”

“But the box for that literally says it’s covered in chocolate. Are they made with real chocolate?”

“I don’t know, are they made from real girl scouts?” Andy asks. Pete finally makes a sound, though it’s more of a laugh than anything else. He turns to look at the bassist, pleased when he grabs his mic and takes over.

“Andy’s really serious about veganism,” he says, sharing an amused glance with the drummer. “I’ve pretty much learned not to question him on it.”

Andy grins at Pete as he takes over the interview, answering the more thoughtful questions. Andy chimes in with a few words of agreement here and there but overall keeps silent. He notices the interviewer doesn’t ask him anything else. Somehow, he’s not entirely bothered by it. 

  
  


**4\. The Robins Are Singing, The Sky Is Azure Blue… It’s Another Miserable Sunny Day**

 

Pete wakes up before anyone else, a common occurrence during every tour they’ve been on. He rolls over in his bunk but the loud rumbling of the bus promises that he won’t get any more sleep. With a sigh, he tears himself out of bed and walks mindlessly into the lounge.

There’s no one else around as he makes coffee, though he knows he doesn’t need it. It’s just something to do, something to distract from the fact that he doesn’t feel quite  _ right  _ today. His head spins like it’s been washed while he was sleeping, stripped of the hype he’d felt as they performed the night before. His limbs are sluggish as he moves and he can’t bring himself to enjoy the sunrise as he glances out the window, a colorful display of oranges and reds shining across the open road.

“I thought I heard some noise. What are you doing up?” 

Pete turns to see Patrick shuffling towards him, the long batman pajama pants catching under his feet as he makes grabby hands at Pete’s coffee. Pete passes it over without complaint, used to the system they’ve set up.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. Sorry, you should probably get more sleep.”

Patrick shrugs, cradling the coffee in his hands and blinking his tired eyes open, squinting without his glasses. 

“Meh, you didn’t wake me up,” he says, a clear lie. “I’ve been working on getting up earlier.”

Pete snorts, lounging back against the couch’s armrest and rolling his eyes. “You’ve been working on that for the past fifteen or so years.”

Patrick just shrugs again, his eyes glancing towards the window and widening. “Woah! Did you see the sunrise?”

“Yep. That’s what happens in the morning, Trick. The robins are singing, the sky is azure blue…” he trails off, shutting his eyes and groaning. “It’s another miserable sunny day.”

It comes out more bitter than Pete had meant, aiming for nonchalant joking and falling flat on his face in the process.

Patrick, of course, has to notice.

“Is the day miserable or…”

“It’s all fine,” Pete says, opening his eyes and looking back out the window. “Everything’s fine. It was just a joke. An Addams Family quote?”

“Hmm,” Patrick hums. “I’ve never seen the movie.”

“Wednesday says it,” Pete says. “We’ll have to watch it sometime so you can understand.”

“Sure,” Patrick says, setting down the coffee and mimicking Pete’s slumped over position. “We’ll also have to talk about how what you’re saying is a bunch of bullshit.”

“No, like, it’s seriously a quote Patrick. She says it when—”

“I’m not doubting that it’s a quote.” Patrick rolls his eyes. “I’m doubting that you’re actually alright. You know it’s fine to say that you’re not doing so well, right? Like, you can always talk to me about that, you know.”

“Yeah, and I will when I need to. If I need to,” Pete says, refusing to meet Patrick’s gaze. Silence falls between them before it’s filled with Patrick’s heavy sigh.

“It’s been a while since we’ve talked, I know, since the band just got back together or whatever the radio hosts are saying about us now,” he says. “But it’d be nice to talk to you again. About whatever you need. Even if it is Addams Family references.”

Pete huffs out a breath that could almost be a laugh, smiling when he sees Patrick’s grin. 

“Thanks,” he says. “I appreciate it. Really.”

It’s not the answer Patrick had wanted, that much is obvious from his weak smile and hesitant eyes, but it’s one that he’ll at least accept. “I’m gonna get some more sleep. You should too.”

“Maybe,” Pete says. “Sleep well.”

Patrick hums out a tired noise in response before standing and heading towards the back, the coffee mug still in his hands. Pete smiles fondly and looks back out at the sunrise.

**+1. I’ll Stop Wearing Black When They Invent A Darker Color**

Patrick’s been staring at the paper for over half an hour, an upset wrinkle between his eyebrows as he forces himself to think.

It’s quite frustrating, really.

He’s supposed to be working on music, composing a makeshift melody for the most recent set of lyrics Pete had handed over to him. Most of the words are classic Pete, cleverness and wit wrapped up in pretty words and metaphors, and Patrick’s done rearranging those. He’d thought it’d be another easy song to write, like “The Last of the Real Ones”. It almost had been until he saw the line:

_I’ll stop wearing black when they make another color_

Patrick’s heard it before— or something like it. He’s heard that phrasing and he’s heard those words and he’s not going to write them into the song until he knows where from. The band hasn’t been in much trouble over plagairizing yet and he refuses to start now.

The studio doors open, the other three band members walking in with tired smiles. The past week of writing has been rough, especially with the tour coming up, but it’s been worth it. They're almost finished recording, just a few more songs to go.

Like this one.

“Hey, Pete. Where did you get this line?” Patrick calls out, skipping over the greetings to jump straight into business. “I’ll stop wearing black when they make another color?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Pete says. “I might have heard someone say something like it, I guess. Why?”

“Because I’ve heard it before,” Patrick says, spinning around with the paper still in his hand. “Haven’t any of you heard it before?”

“It sounds sort of familiar,” Joe says, rubbing the back of his head and walking over. “But, like, not something I’d worry too much about.”

Patrick does the exact opposite of what Joe says— he worries even more.

“Okay, so if three of us have heard it before, that means it has to be in another song or something,” he says, grabbing a pen and preparing to scratch it out. “We’ll have to think of another line to go there. Is there anything else that sort of captures its theme?”

“Aw, come on,” Pete whines, taking the spot next to Patrick. “That line's perfect. It, like, plays on the whole emo concept  _ and  _ makes fun of our fashion sense. Not that any of us wear much black anymore.”

“Speak for yourself,” Andy says, walking over. “Anyway, if Patrick thinks it might be copying another lyric, it’d probably be safer to leave it out.”

“But we don’t know if it’s in another song,” Pete says. “We can’t cut it out based on Patrick’s bad feeling about it.”

“It’s not a bad feeling,” Patrick says, rolling his eyes. “I like the lyric, it’s just… familiar.”

“That’s not necessarily bad,” Pete says.

“It’s not necessarily  _ good _ ,” Patrick snaps. Pete just scoffs, folding his arms across his chest.

“Name the song it’s from,” he challenges. Patrick tosses down the paper and stands up.

“I don’t  _ know  _ if it’s from a song but I’m not willing to take the chance of getting sued because you were attached to a stupid lyric,” he says. “Besides, it’s not like—”

“Guys, it’s from The Addams Family,” Joe cuts in, his phone in front of his face. Everyone turns to stare.

“What?” Patrick asks after an extended silence. Joe shrugs, painfully casual about the entire thing.

“Well, not completely. It’s tweaked a bit but apparently Wednesday does say something similar,” he says. “So we should be good to use it.”

“Ha!” Pete exclaims, falling into a seat opposite Patrick. “So we  _ can  _ put it into the song.”

“I have no memory of Wednesday ever saying that and Pete made me watch The Addams Family for an entire month straight after learning I hadn’t seen it. I can literally quote every scene whether or not I want to,” Patrick says. He looks to Andy for help. “Have you heard Wednesday say that?”

Andy shrugs. “I was never too interested in that movie.”

“Wait, seriously?” Pete asks. “Dude, it’s a classic.”

“Not exactly my favorite genre,” Andy admits, shoulders still pulled up to his ears in a shrug. Pete’s jaw drops and he looks back and forth between Patrick and Joe.

“Please tell me you two like the movie,” he says. 

“After watching it every night of tour a few years back?” Patrick says. “Highly unlikely that it’d be a favorite of mine.”

“I like it,” Joe says, setting his phone back in his pocket. “Haven’t watched it in a while but I remember thinking it was good, at least.”

Pete actually looks offended. 

“Okay, so, this is the new plan for the day,” he says, standing up and straightening out his jacket. “We’re going back to my place and having a movie ni— day, a movie day so I can educate you guys on the masterpiece that is Wednesday Addams.”

“You didn’t even know you were quoting her,” Patrick says. “And I’m still not sure that it’s an actual quote.”

“Then consider this research,” Pete says, a serious look in his eyes. “Research and education.”

Patrick looks longingly across his studio as the other three head towards the door, Joe chatting about how nice it’ll be to have a break and Pete interjecting that it’s not a break but a necessary study. Patrick yanks out his own phone, a frown on his face. 

“You coming, Trick?” Pete asks, turning around as if he’d just noticed they were missing a member. Patrick nods, his fingers flying over the keys of his phone as he searches the quote.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Joe. He just likes to make sure they’re not actually wasting time. 

“Yeah, I’m coming. Just a sec,” he says, the page loading with an aching slowness. Finally, the quote pulls up.

_ “I’ll stop wearing black when they invent a darker color… “ _

A fashion magazine is the first result; a Goodreads page of the author the next. Google Images is filled with Wednesday’s face but, for the life of him, Patrick still can’t find any  _ proof _ that she said it.

“Come on,” Pete whines. “We wanna watch it!”

“But it’s—” Patrick cuts off, looking at the group before him. Pete watches him with childish impatience; Joe grins and speaks to Andy about the movie. Andy even seems a bit interested, asking how much it’s like the original series. They don’t seem to care that Joe might have gotten his facts wrong. They don’t mind that another day will be put to waste and Pete will mope until they find another lyric.

Patrick finds he doesn’t mind, either. He places his phone in his pocket and a soft smile on his face, grabbing his jacket and hurrying to catch up with them.

“She doesn’t say it, you know,” he says as they pile into Pete’s car. 

“Guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Joe says. “No big loss there.”

Patrick shakes his head fondly, feeling too much like a dad waiting for his kid to realize that the tooth fairy doesn't exist. It's a cute belief and excitement, he supposes, though the aftermath won't be half as entertaining. The car starts and the band starts to talk, chattering and laughing in a way that’s almost a melody. Patrick’s fingers itch for a guitar and, before he knows it, he’s writing the lyrics into a song.

_ “I’ll stop wearing black when they make another color…” _

Maybe the day won't be a waste after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I sat at IMDB and read all of Wednesday's quotes, picking out the most interesting ones and assigning band members to them. It took way longer than you'd think.
> 
> Also? I didn't see the darker color quote in there? I'm still a bit confused but it all worked out I think, haha.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!


End file.
